The Works of Lord Byron Volume IV Part 59

_Doge_. Wretch! darest thou name my son? He died in arms At Sapienza[398] for this faithless state.

Oh! that he were alive, and I in ashes!

Or that he were alive ere I be ashes!

I should not need the dubious aid of strangers. 560

_I. Ber_. Not one of all those strangers whom thou doubtest, But will regard thee with a filial feeling, So that thou keep'st a father's faith with them.

_Doge_. The die is cast. Where is the place of meeting?

_I. Ber_. At midnight I will be alone and masked Where'er your Highness pleases to direct me, To wait your coming, and conduct you where You shall receive our homage, and p.r.o.nounce Upon our project.

_Doge_. At what hour arises The moon?

_I. Ber_. Late, but the atmosphere is thick and dusky, 570 'Tis a sirocco.

_Doge_. At the midnight hour, then, Near to the church where sleep my sires;[399] the same, Twin-named from the apostles John and Paul; A gondola,[400] with one oar only, will Lurk in the narrow channel which glides by.

Be there.

_I. Ber_. I will not fail.

_Doge_. And now retire----

_I. Ber_. In the full hope your Highness will not falter In your great purpose. Prince, I take my leave.

[_Exit_ Isreal Bertuccio.

_Doge_ (_solus_). At midnight, by the church Saints John and Paul, Where sleep my n.o.ble fathers, I repair-- 580 To what? to hold a council in the dark With common ruffians leagued to ruin states!

And will not my great sires leap from the vault, Where lie two Doges who preceded me, And pluck me down amongst them? Would they could!

For I should rest in honour with the honoured.

Alas! I must not think of them, but those Who have made me thus unworthy of a name n.o.ble and brave as aught of consular On Roman marbles; but I will redeem it 590 Back to its antique l.u.s.tre in our annals, By sweet revenge on all that's base in Venice, And freedom to the rest, or leave it black To all the growing calumnies of Time, Which never spare the fame of him who fails, But try the Caesar, or the Catiline, By the true touchstone of desert--Success.[401]

ACT II.

SCENE I.--_An Apartment in the Ducal Palace_.

ANGIOLINA[402] (_wife of the_ DOGE) _and_ MARIANNA.

_Ang_. What was the Doge's answer?

_Mar_. That he was That moment summoned to a conference; But 'tis by this time ended. I perceived Not long ago the Senators embarking; And the last gondola may now be seen Gliding into the throng of barks which stud The glittering waters.

_Ang_. Would he were returned!

He has been much disquieted of late; And Time, which has not tamed his fiery spirit, Nor yet enfeebled even his mortal frame, 10 Which seems to be more nourished by a soul So quick and restless that it would consume Less hardy clay--Time has but little power On his resentments or his griefs. Unlike To other spirits of his order, who, In the first burst of pa.s.sion, pour away Their wrath or sorrow, all things wear in him An aspect of Eternity: his thoughts, His feelings, pa.s.sions, good or evil, all Have nothing of old age;[403] and his bold brow 20 Bears but the scars of mind, the thoughts of years, Not their decrepitude: and he of late Has been more agitated than his wont.

Would he were come! for I alone have power Upon his troubled spirit.

_Mar_. It is true, His Highness has of late been greatly moved By the affront of Steno, and with cause: But the offender doubtless even now Is doomed to expiate his rash insult with Such chastis.e.m.e.nt as will enforce respect 30 To female virtue, and to n.o.ble blood.

_Ang_. 'Twas a gross insult; but I heed it not For the rash scorner's falsehood in itself, But for the effect, the deadly deep impression Which it has made upon Faliero's soul, The proud, the fiery, the austere--austere To all save me: I tremble when I think To what it may conduct.

_Mar_. a.s.suredly The Doge can not suspect you?

_Ang_. Suspect _me!_ Why Steno dared not: when he scrawled his lie, 40 Grovelling by stealth in the moon's glimmering light, His own still conscience smote him for the act, And every shadow on the walls frowned shame Upon his coward calumny.

_Mar_. 'Twere fit He should be punished grievously.

_Ang_. He is so.

_Mar_. What! is the sentence pa.s.sed? is he condemned?[de]

_Ang_. I know not that, but he has been detected.

_Mar_. And deem you this enough for such foul scorn?

_Ang_. I would not be a judge in my own cause, Nor do I know what sense of punishment 50 May reach the soul of ribalds such as Steno; But if his insults sink no deeper in The minds of the inquisitors than they Have ruffled mine, he will, for all acquittance, Be left to his own shamelessness or shame.

_Mar_. Some sacrifice is due to slandered virtue.

_Ang_. Why, what is virtue if it needs a victim?

Or if it must depend upon men's words?

The dying Roman said, "'twas but a name:"[404]

It were indeed no more, if human breath 60 Could make or mar it.

_Mar_. Yet full many a dame, Stainless and faithful, would feel all the wrong Of such a slander; and less rigid ladies, Such as abound in Venice, would be loud And all-inexorable in their cry For justice.

_Ang_. This but proves it is the name And not the quality they prize: the first Have found it a hard task to hold their honour, If they require it to be blazoned forth; And those who have not kept it, seek its seeming 70 As they would look out for an ornament Of which they feel the want, but not because They think it so; they live in others' thoughts, And would seem honest as they must seem fair.

_Mar_. You have strange thoughts for a patrician dame.

_Ang_. And yet they were my father's; with his name, The sole inheritance he left.

_Mar_. You want none; Wife to a Prince, the Chief of the Republic.

_Ang_. I should have sought none though a peasant's bride, But feel not less the love and grat.i.tude 80 Due to my father, who bestowed my hand Upon his early, tried, and trusted friend, The Count Val di Marino, now our Doge.

_Mar_. And with that hand did he bestow your heart?

_Ang_. He did so, or it had not been bestowed.

_Mar_. Yet this strange disproportion in your years, And, let me add, disparity of tempers, Might make the world doubt whether such an union Could make you wisely, permanently happy.

_Ang_. The world will think with worldlings; but my heart 90 Has still been in my duties, which are many, But never difficult.

_Mar_. And do you love him?

_Ang_. I love all n.o.ble qualities which merit Love, and I loved my father, who first taught me To single out what we should love in others, And to subdue all tendency to lend The best and purest feelings of our nature To baser pa.s.sions. He bestowed my hand Upon Faliero: he had known him n.o.ble, Brave, generous; rich in all the qualities 100 Of soldier, citizen, and friend; in all Such have I found him as my father said.

His faults are those that dwell in the high bosoms Of men who have commanded; too much pride, And the deep pa.s.sions fiercely fostered by The uses of patricians, and a life Spent in the storms of state and war; and also From the quick sense of honour, which becomes A duty to a certain sign, a vice When overstrained, and this I fear in him. 110 And then he has been rash from his youth upwards, Yet tempered by redeeming n.o.bleness In such sort, that the wariest of republics Has lavished all its chief employs upon him, From his first fight to his last emba.s.sy, From which on his return the Dukedom met him.